Circling The Flame
by wildsky
Summary: Response to First Impressions challenge at Supernatural TV. A young woman meets Dean Winchester for the first time. Please read and review!


**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em (unless they're originals). Please don't sue me. It's _so_ not worth it.**

**A/N: **This is a response to Challenge Five over at Supernatural TV – First Impressions.

**Circling The Flame**

**Boston, Massachusetts, 2001**

Erica leaned back against the bathroom door and exhaled in a rush, feeling like she could have slept for a week. Tendrils of long red hair fell around her face, having worked their way free during the last ten hours of this God-forsaken shift. Another thirty minutes and she could go home and get some rest.

Friday nights and the Saturday mornings that followed were never a pleasant experience. There were a fair number of bars in the area and it seemed that every drunk and his dog thought Moe's Diner was the perfect place to eat and throw up. The proprietor had made it clear when he'd first hired her that the diner was open all-hours on the weekend but she definitely hadn't anticipated spending her time cleaning up that kind of mess. Dishes she could handle. Vomit was another matter entirely.

"Erica? Are you back here?"

The sound of Mandy's voice brought Erica out of her momentary stupor.

"Yeah, I'm here," Erica replied quickly, brushing her hair away from her face as she stepped out of the bathroom. The older woman looked her over and nodded, satisfied that the redhead was still presentable.

"Not much longer, honey," Mandy said kindly, giving the nineteen-year-old a reassuring smile. "Just think, after this we won't have the graveyard shift for another three weeks."

"Hallelujah," Erica grinned in relief. "All right, who hasn't been served yet?"

"Table Twelve's been looking at the menus for a few minutes," Mandy replied, then sniffed slightly. "You go on now, honey, I think Tony's burning something again."

Mandy bustled away and Erica slipped her pen out from behind her ear, making her way to the very last booth, right next to the door. Three men had settled in – two that she immediately pegged as brothers and an older man she assumed was their father.

"Good morning," Erica greeted them, pulling a notepad out of her pocket. "Are you ready to order?"

The older of the two boys looked up at her and smiled, his hazel eyes boldly meeting her blue ones. Erica felt her face warm up a little and she hoped that she hadn't gone red. The last thing she needed was for her cheeks to match her hair. She managed to keep a straight face and focused her attention on the father.

"Just coffee. Black," he rumbled without looking up.

"Okay…" Erica shifted her gaze to the two boys, though only one of them actually fell into that category in her mind as the older one's lips twitched in amusement. "And what would you guys like?"

"Could I get some buttered toast," the darker one asked, his hair flopping into his eyes as he looked up at her, "and a flat white with two sugars, please?" She smiled slightly at the courtesy as she jotted it down. 'Please' and 'thankyou' weren't uttered very often at Moe's.

Finally, she glanced at the older brother, who had a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he caught her gaze. She had to admit that he was a nice change from most of the guys who rolled through the place on a Saturday morning. He was sober and hadn't made any attempts to grope her. All he'd done was smile up at her.

With a face like his, that was enough.

"Bacon and eggs and a black coffee, thanks…" he spied her nametag "…Erica."

"Coming right up," she replied, flashing him a shy smile. He had a nice voice, Midwestern accent. Reining in her thoughts, she headed back towards the front counter and pegged the order slip up with the others. As she busied herself with the beverages, she couldn't resist sneaking a peek at the back booth.

Definitely an improvement on their usual clientele.

Mandy gave her a gentle nudge. "Not a bad view, is it?"

Erica grinned ruefully at being caught. "Not bad at all," she agreed, tucking a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. "Cute, sober and they said please and thankyou."

"Hmph. I'm starting to wish I'd served them myself," Mandy said with a sigh as she picked up two plates of food and bustled away. Erica watched her go, wondering for a moment how Mandy had managed to tolerate Moe's for six years. The redhead only worked there to pay the bills her scholarship didn't cover and had increased her hours over the summer to build up some savings.

With a shake of her head, she finished with the coffees and loaded them onto a tray before delivering them to the only decent customers she'd had in nine and a half hours.

"Okay, so that's two black coffees," she said as she set them down in front of their owners, "and one flat white with two sugars. The meals'll be another couple of minutes."

"Thanks," the older brother replied, bestowing yet another beguiling smile upon her.

Erica found herself smiling shyly in return despite the fact that he hadn't technically been anything except a polite customer so far. It was amazing how attractive a man in full control of his faculties could be after a night of serving nothing but drunken louts.

That had to be it, she thought as she retreated to the counter to take a customer's payment. She was tired and she was making something out of nothing. Besides, Moe's waitressing uniform was anything but flattering. She probably looked like hell. By the time their order came up, she'd composed herself.

She was absolutely not affected by the admiring sparkle in his eyes as she deposited his bacon and eggs in front of him. No way. Not a chance.

"Dean," the younger brother muttered in disgust, nudging the guy in the ribs. "I'm trying to eat here."

Erica blushed as Dean shot his brother a look that clearly said 'shut up'. Their father didn't even glance up from his newspaper.

"Let me know if you need anything else," she told them mechanically and moved away, mortified that she'd been so obvious. Flirting had never been her strength. Her friend Sasha held the title in that arena. In fact, Sasha would probably have been laughing her head off right then.

By the time Dean and his family had eaten and were ready to pay for their meals, Erica was just about to walk out the door, her powder-blue uniform now obscured by a trenchcoat. She smiled at Jen, who'd arrived just as the clock ticked over, heralding the end of a long night.

Dean looked up and caught her gaze as she stood poised in the doorway, her red hair now tumbling around her shoulders. With a sigh, she smiled slightly and stepped outside, jamming her hands into her pockets as she strode down the street towards the bus stop.

That night, after a shower, eight hours of sleep and a beer, Erica finally felt human again. She was sitting at the bar counter of the local Irish pub with her friends, having a laugh, when Sasha spied something over her shoulder and nudged her.

"Okay, don't turn around," Sasha advised with a mischievous smile, "but that guy over there is totally checking you out."

"Really?" Erica did her best to keep her expression neutral as she turned just enough to catch a glimpse of the young man in question out of the corner of her eye. She cleared her throat softly as she looked back at her friend, her teeth tugging gently at her lower lip. "That's the guy from the diner."

"Go over there," Sasha urged her quietly.

"I can't go over there!" Erica protested quietly. "I'm not good at flirting."

"So just relax and let him do all the work," Sasha advised her playfully. "Believe me, honey, the way he's looking at you, I don't think he's after a deep and meaningful."

"Sasha!" Erica gave her friend a half-hearted punch on the arm, then seemed to consider the situation for a moment. "How's he looking at me?"

"Like you're dessert," Sasha said decisively just before she started to pout dramatically. "Ric, you have _got_ to live a little. Now get your ass over there. I'm _begging_ you."

Sasha gave her a pleading look, knowing that Erica was weakening. With a final roll of her eyes, Erica smiled and Sasha let out a triumphant whoop that caught the attention of half the bar patrons despite the redhead's attempts to hush her. With one final quelling glance at her friend, Erica sucked in a deep breath and turned…

Only to find that Dean had taken the initiative instead and was standing about two feet behind her, flashing a grin that she was sure had probably sucked in girls with more willpower than she had.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked smoothly.

_Damn, he's got a great voice_, she thought as she smiled up at him.

"Sure," she replied before her brain had even processed his request properly. His smile widened.

"I'm Dean," he introduced himself smoothly.

"Erica," she replied, feeling shy all over again.

"I know. I remember," he told her, his hazel eyes moving over her coppery hair. "You kinda stand out."

Whether he'd meant it as an observation or a compliment, Erica decided to take it as the latter. Then Sasha cleared her throat and Erica jumped, remembering her manners at the last second.

"Uh… Dean, this is my friend Sasha," the redhead said quickly. "Sasha, this is Dean."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Sasha declared with her customary sultry air, holding out a hand for him to shake. "You wouldn't happen to have a brother, would you?"

"Actually, yeah," Dean informed her, "but this isn't really his kind of scene."

"That's a real shame. His loss," Sasha shrugged and promptly returned her attention to the barman she'd been making eyes at all night. Accustomed to Sasha's short attention span, Erica didn't give it a second thought.

"So can I buy you a drink?" Dean asked, unfazed by Sasha's lazy brush-off. His hazel eyes sought her gaze and Erica found herself wondering how many girls he'd picked up in this manner. From the first appraising glance in the diner to the smooth delivery of his 'you kinda stand out' line, everything about him screamed womanizer.

Normally she ran a mile from guys like him. She'd never thought of herself as easy or gullible. So why was she still standing there, smiling up at him and watching those hazel eyes spark as he charmed her?

It had to be the bad boy thing, right? The leather jacket and the scruffy hair. Every girl flirted with the wrong kind of man at least once in their lives and it certainly didn't hurt that he was rather easy on the eyes. And why, when half a dozen other women in the bar were blatantly admiring the view, was he still talking to the shy one of the bunch?

Whatever his reasons, Erica found herself casting her own worries aside as she settled in to enjoy his company. It was clear that he was just passing through, that he wasn't looking for dinner and candlelight. He just wanted to have some fun and he made no attempts to persuade her otherwise. They had a few drinks and a few laughs.

By the time she woke the next morning, it was well-past sunrise and the other half of her bed was cold and empty. He'd obviously been gone for a while. She sat up in the bed, clutching the sheet to her breasts, as she drew in a slow, deep breath and let it out in a rush. Her sleep-rumpled red hair fell around her face and she swept it out of the way, finally noticing the piece of paper sitting on the pillow. She picked it up and blinked down at the words.

_I had a great time. Thanks_.

Erica's lips curved up into a half-smile. She wasn't surprised to find that he'd already left but the note was a nice touch. She knew she'd probably never see him again but the thought didn't really bother her. They'd had a good time and that was all it was ever meant to be.

She'd been drawn to him like a moth to the flame.

And she'd spent the night burning.


End file.
